by Jeanne Adams
“I’m asking if you’ll marry me, darling Ana. Make a life with me. Maybe…” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Maybe even be my business partner.”
The idea of that took a few minutes to sink in. The whole of it.
“Marry?” Ana eased him back to look at him, look in his eyes, see if he was serious. What she saw there was love. Pure and simple. Respect. Trust. Everything she could have ever wanted.
“Yes,” he answered. “Marry me.”
“You?” She stuttered the word, trying to make her brain work, follow the patterns, and assemble the data.
He looked pained. “You make it sound so horrible. Yes, me.” Now he looked worried. “What do you say?”
All the data snapped into line. She loved him, he loved her. They were good together in every way. She knew the answer.
Careful of his healing side, she hugged him, stood on tiptoe to whisper one word into his ear.
“Yes.”
Epilogue
Gates strolled into the office where Dav sat, waiting till he got off the phone before moving forward to grip his hand, accept his brotherly embrace.
“You’re back!” Dav crowed, holding Gates at arm’s length for a moment before pulling him close for another hug. “I’m thrilled to see you. You enjoyed yourselves?”
Before Gates could answer, Dav laughed. “Wait, forget I asked that. Honeymoons are for enjoyment, and nothing else, so I’m sure that you made the most of it. Was the plane comfortable? The house in order? You found everything to your liking?”
“Dav,” Gates chided warmly. “The house could have been a wreck, for all we cared, you know that. That said, it was great.” He punched Dav’s arm with manly affection. “I don’t have to tell you that you didn’t have to kit it out with a year’s worth of gourmet food, but we appreciated it. Have to say though, I’d forgotten how beautiful the sea is off Mykonos.” He grinned and added with sly humor, “Not that I saw much of the sea or the pool or anything else.”
“If the wicked look you’re wearing is any indication, I’m betting you didn’t get much sun, eh?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Gates answered, still grinning. “That roof deck has a marvelous view. It’s very private too, but I’m sure you knew that.”
Dav laughed uproariously. “Good, good. Yes, I did know, but wonderful to hear that it was satisfactory for you and Ana-aki as well. Now, come sit down and tell me everything.” He motioned Gates to a seat at the table. “Well, perhaps not everything. Coffee?”
“Of course, and you can pour a cup for Ana, she’ll be along in moment. Her friend Jen called just as we pulled up.” Gates grinned again. Jen had been a hit at their wedding, dancing with everyone, saying it was her maid-of-honor duty. According to rumor before they left, she’d hooked up with a surgeon from Palo Alto and was still having a blast. “That will take a few minutes, I know. Then she wanted to talk to your landscaper about trees.”
“Trees? Never mind.” Dav waved the answer away. “I hope she gets a satisfactory answer. I wouldn’t like it if the gardener made her mad. When your lady gets mad, it is very impressive.” He set down two of his china cups and joined Gates at the table. “It’s also messy. I don’t want to irritate her.”
“You’re right,” Gates agreed, taking a cup, enjoying the warmth. It was cool in San Francisco after three weeks on Mykonos. “I also have to tell you, she’s got a hell of a sharp eye for a house too.”
“House? You looked for something in Greece?”
“No, not in Greece. Here. In the middle of the honeymoon she went online and looked at houses. Wouldn’t be satisfied until we’d scanned through everything.”
Dav was delighted. “I know a wonderful real estate agent,” he began.
Gates shook a finger. “Uh-uh. I remember that woman. No way. Besides, we’ve already bought the old Henner place, a few miles away. She’s now obsessed with the trees on the property, don’t ask me why.”
Delight suffused Dav’s features, and he slapped the table, making the cups jump in their saucers. “That is cause for celebration, my friend. We will be neighbors as well as partners. Good. Wait here a moment.” He moved to the desk, spoke to the chef. “We will have champagne.”
“Champagne?” Ana said from the doorway, then laughed as Dav hurried to her and swung her off her feet, planting two smacking kisses on either cheek. “We about drowned in your wonderful champagne when we were in Greece.” She kissed him back. “Thank you, Dav.”
“There is no need for thanks among friends. Champagne is for celebrating, and you should drink a lot of it to celebrate when you are lucky enough to find someone you love. Celebrate it every day,” Dav said, more serious now. “Truly, I am so pleased for you both, you know that, but I hope to never stop saying it.”
Ana blushed a bit. “Thanks, Dav. If it weren’t for you, for the case,” she started, and had to stop. She still got emotional when it came to everything that had transpired. She pulled herself together when one of the men wheeled in a cart with the champagne.
“Here we are.” Dav urged her to sit, popped the cork. “To celebrate your house, and being neighbors. When you finish with the incorporation papers for the new business, we will celebrate then as well.”
He poured glasses for them all, and they raised them, let the crystal chime as they touched them together. “To a long and happy life together,” he began, and Gates saw the emotion in his eyes, the mingled delight and sorrow. “Stin eyia sou.”
“Cheers,” Gates added in English as Ana echoed the Greek, “Stin eyia sou.”
In the darkened house, Jurgens stood over the sleeping boy, Jeremiah. It had been difficult to get into the house, but his work was not yet done. There was a noise in the hall, and he slipped the Glock from its holster, the suppressor still faintly warm from its earlier task. He stood, waiting.
“Jurgens?” Caroline whispered, hurrying into the room. He turned a bit more, showing his face to her, and she gasped, seeing both his expression and the weapon in his hand.
She would know what it meant. It was the end.
Tears welled in her beautiful eyes and her lip quivered; fear shone there as well as she looked from man to child and back again.
“It’s done? It’s finally done?”
He nodded, a smile beginning to tug at his mouth. His cheeks were stiff with the long trial of keeping everything locked in, of staying silent.
“It’s over. Only a year or so more to wait,” he whispered back, careful of the sleeping child, his son, his Jeremiah. “Then I can court you properly, my love. Woo you and win the young widow’s heart.” His smile broadened as he re-holstered the gun and opened his arms. She moved into them as if coming home.
Her sigh was long and heartfelt, and he echoed it. “You replaced the paintings as we agreed?” He murmured the words into her hair, breathing in the smell of her, of shampoo and the faint wild scent of her perfume. It was intoxicating.
She nodded into his chest, both answering his question and burrowing closer to him, a luxury they had been denied for far too long. Her arms banded around his taut waist to snug him close to her shapely body. “You are brilliant, my love, brilliant,” he said. “I get down on my knees every night and bless the day that mein Gott led me to you. You are my heart, you and Jeremiah.”
He kissed her then, a long, passionate kiss that brought them both to panting need.
“Can we—”
“I wish we could—” They both spoke at once.
He stroked a possessive hand down the lush length of her back. His, now. Always.
“Nothing of me must be in this house. They suspect Drake. If the worst happens and he’s been foolish enough to leave evidence, they may come, inspect,” he said, wishing he could stay, engulf himself in her love, her embrace.
Soon though, soon they would be together. A year wasn’t very long, and by then, they could make a little brother or sister for Jeremiah. It would space the children well.
“I wish y
ou could be here now. It will be hard,” she whispered, still mindful of the boy, who slept undisturbed in his footie pajamas. “It’s already been hard. The police, all the calls and questions.”
“Soon,” Jurgens murmured into her hair, “there will be the funeral.”
“You think they will find him that quickly?” Caroline was concerned.
“It won’t be long. You did your work well,” he praised. She had timed everything perfectly. In the early hours of the morning, she’d arisen, called the warehouse, all of Drake’s phones, every point of contact she could think of. There would be a record of her calling all the places, doing all she could to locate him. She’d called the hospitals next, then the police, just as any distraught young wife might do. She’d told them the baby had woken her and she’d realized Drake had not come home. He often worked late, she had gone on to bed.
The steps they’d planned, every move, she had executed with magnificent pathos. She was perfect, his beloved, his Caroline.
“You have courage now, for me, ja?”
“Ja,” she echoed him with a watery smile. “But the waiting, the funeral,” she murmured, ducking her head. “It will be hard to wait, to not know when it will all happen. How long it will be.”
“You will be all the more convincing to them, because you will be shocked. You see this, ja?”
“Yes. Yes, I…” She wiped away her tears, took a bracing breath. “I know. I’ll be patient.”
He chuckled, feeling his heart swell. “I will send flowers. When the time comes. They will be for you, of course,” he said, smiling with passion in his heart, knowing she would recognize them, the ones that came from him. “Something for our son as well. You will know.”
She nodded, emotion suffusing her features. “I’ll know. I always have.”
“Sehr gut.” Very good. “I must go.” He hesitated, then spoke his mind. “I will miss you. Every moment, I’ll miss you.”
She hugged him again, even more tightly. “I’ll miss you desperately, but I’ll get through, knowing we’ll be together in the end.”
He smiled, relief coursing through him. She was so luminous, his Caroline. All his, now.
“You will be brilliant,” he complimented, hugging her again, wishing he didn’t have to release her now, let her go on with this part of their plan alone. Trust, though, was everything between them so he would step back, let her do her part.
Jurgens pressed an untraceable phone into her hand. He had learned much from Drake about keeping phones private and untrackable. “I’ll call. It will be some time before they find him, but they will find him.” He kissed her again, another long, magnificent kiss to hold him until he could claim her. “You’ll see me. Here and there. When you do, know that I am wishing to be like this, with you. Always.”
She buried her face in his chest once more, her strong arms holding him as if she would never release him. It swelled his heart with love for her.
She moved back, crossed her arms to hug herself as if bereft without him. “I’ll be here. I know the steps, and I’ll follow them, just as we planned.”
“Ich liebe dich,” he said, voicing it aloud for the very first time. I love you. It was like the sun breaking through the clouds, to see the joy on her face.
“Oh, darling.” She nearly sobbed the words as she flung herself back into his arms. “I love you too.”
The feel of her made it that much harder to leave, but go he must. He’d already spent too much time.
Jurgens slipped out the way he had come in, savoring her words, savoring the look, taste, and feel of her as he made his way through the underground passage that connected the mansion to its neighbor, half a mile away. Smiling, he changed his black watch cap for a ball cap, put on the heavy leather belt with its flashlight and nightstick that he’d left in the terminus of the passageway, and ghosted out of the simple garden shed.
Keys jingling, he got back into the small SUV and started the engine, making his rounds as the new hire by the neighborhood security company.
Did you miss Jeanne’s other books?
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DARK AND DANGEROUS
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Dana Markham is up against a cold-blooded killer who knows her all too well: Donovan Walker. Wanted for drug trafficking, armed and dangerous—he’s also her ex-husband. What she knows about him could land him behind bars forever…or put her and her young son in an early grave if Donovan finds them first. Dana’s one chance lies with a man she barely knows at all. Tall and darkly sensual, Caine Bradley is an undercover FBI agent who’s been posing as Walker’s henchman. Compelled to work with Caine to lure her ex out of hiding, Dana must fight against her own raw, urgent needs. But is he who he says he is? Her passionate desire for him could be her salvation—or her greatest mistake…
The windchimes began to peal, a musical jangle. Dana had just set her book aside and turned out the bedside lights. Listening, she felt a twitch of intuition. For her, the tingle of unease was as good as a certified letter when it came to danger.
There had been no breeze, not even the barest hint of wind when she’d let their dog, Shadow, out for the last time at eleven. The cool spring air, redolent with the scent of new growth, had been still.
Getting out of bed, she flicked the television on for light. Tossing the remote on the bed, she walked to the inner hallway; continuing to listen, preparing to act.
The clanging of the chimes picked up speed. Fools, she thought, even as her heart raced, realizing what hovered outside her house.
Shadow began to growl. Everything seemed to slow down, separate into moments. They had come for her, for her son. She’d been dreading this and yet expecting it.
It had only been four hours since she’d sat with Xavier, reading from one of the Harry Potter books at bedtime. Now, she would have to wake him, to run.
They’d had to scurry away in the night before, or leave with bare minutes of leeway, but then they’d had help. The FBI or WitSec—the witness security program—had been there.
Donovan had found them again, and this time she was on her own.
As scared as she was, the clangor of the bells almost made her laugh. Almost. For all her ex-husband’s cunning, for all the expensive black-market military hardware he bought with his drug money, he didn’t have anyone smart enough to think about those windchimes.
Thank God.
Warned by the wind. If that’s not cosmic justice, I don’t know what is. How soon he forgot. He’d trained her well to take near-paranoid precautions. That hard-won expertise worked against him now, and ensured she knew trouble had arrived.
Being forewarned only helped her if she took action, she reminded herself, thinking furiously. There was no time to get to the van, and even if they did, the helicopter would be armed. They would be sitting ducks on the country roads. There was no time to go to the safe room in the basement, either.
Donovan’s men would be on the ground by now.
She did have time to activate her other protective measures, pitiful though they were. Still growling, Shadow—one of her more traditional defenses—obviously sensed the peril, and stood ready for her commands.
DARK AND DEADLY
In Jeanne Adams’s pulse-pounding thriller, a woman who’s lost everything must turn to the man she considers her worst enemy. But he isn’t the one who wants her dead…
No Escape
Cursed. Bad things happen to men who get close to Victoria Hagan. Now one of them has paid the ultimate price. Her ex-fiance, Todd, has been found murdered in the very church where he left her at the altar—and Torie is the prime suspect. Her only hope is the last person she wants to see…
Ever since he advised his best friend not to marry her and the bride-to-be walked in on the conversation, Paul Jameson has stayed far away from Torie—an
d resisted their dangerously hot mutual attraction. Still, Paul promised Todd he would take care of Torie. She certainly needs him now…almost as much as he wants her. And that’s exactly what a killer is counting on…
“What do you mean we can’t get married?” Torie’s words were a panicked screech. “Todd, there are five hundred guests in the church. The music’s started. They’ve seated our mothers, for God’s sake.” She gestured and rose petals flew from her bouquet, drifting to the floor like snow.
Panic filled her. Half of Philadelphia was waiting for her to walk down the aisle. Her sorority sisters were there. His fraternity brothers, mostly sober, were there. Even the lawyers from his new firm and her boss from the engineering firm were there to see her marry Todd.
“I know, I know. But, I can’t do it Torie, I can’t. Not now.”
“What changed, Todd, between Monday, when I left the conference in Raleigh and today?” Torie’s heart stuttered. “Oh, my God. You slept with someone. You had a fling.”
“No, no, no,” Todd protested, his face stricken, grabbing her waving hands, bouquet and all. “I didn’t, I swear. What happened is—”
“Tell me,” she insisted. “I have a right to know.”
“I won the jackpot,” he blurted. “Three hundred and sixty-eight million dollars. I never expected, I mean, you know, I always buy a ticket on special days.”
He did. She knew that. They’d always talked about what they’d do if they won.
Her mind whirled. Oh good Lord, he’d won.
“You won?” she managed faintly. “All that money?”
They would never have to scrimp. Her mother’s complaints about Todd’s spendthrift habits and frat-boy ways would be nothing against that kind of income. They could—